Tainted Tears
by shinigami exit
Summary: [yaoi][graphic scenes][language] God and Lucifer. Heaven and Hell. The two just don't fit, but it's obvious that God could wipe out Hell easily if He wanted to. And there's a chance he just might have pissed God off. Demon love!
1. Chapter 1

_It was just this __one__ time. _

_His breathing stuttered out, fogging up the mirror in front of him eyes watching the body behind his own. It's skin so delicate, as fingers gripped hard producing a red tint under the touch. The indescribable pain shot up feeling that first thrust penetrate through unlawful barriers. There was no preparing, no warnings as it filled causing a silent scream to echo in the room. The movement was endless—__in__ and __out__ without a pause even as it teased that __one__ spot. But he wanted the pain. Incoherent moaning begged for more, pressing against the glass as the speed gained, the world fading around them, as everything seemed to disappear. _

"_D-__don't__!" A useless cry muttered, body being violated by yet another figure. Strange heat enveloped around areas they should not, causing such an internal flame to spark inside building up more heat between three men. There were hardly any words to communicate what they needed; a simple groan caused a response to attend to such desires. A teasing lick, a deep bite, violate kisses, all of it were shared between them only to pause when the other required assistance. They held back as much as they could, sweat trickling down their skin becoming a slippery lubricant as friction continued. This one time had to last the longest even as few were unable to hold. _

_But to feel another unknown hand rub against skin was more than enough torment to hold within. Four bodies now, the mattress beneath them was trembling as a violent manner forced the sucking motion off. A few gasps fell in the air as a confused moan pushed into the open questioning this only to be answered as legs were propped up on a pair of shoulders. He couldn't protest only let out a loud cry as he was stretched more than what seemed natural. His body was shaking, tears running down his face as both men thrust into him unable to stop their own groans from such a tight fit. _

_Blood and sweat now, the taste was filling his lips as he bit down harshly unable to stop anything that was going on. He wanted this; he wanted violence against his own body for once. _

_It was a shame however, that he couldn't go by his own promises—for it was __more__ than once. _

"My Prince." A sharp breath stirred from the resting male, lying beneath a smooth blood red fabric thick enough to protect him from a fiery ice storm. His eyes flickered, revealing two deep black pupils, which hardly looked to the intruder who had spoken in the once quiet and relaxed room. At first they looked up wondering if it was just an illusion that played with his ears but as he began to roll over again he was forced to wake. "Lucifer. You _must_ rise."

"And to who do I rise? The sun, in which I cannot see? The stars that are nothing but faint reminders of what I could have?" He groaned with such a deep voice trying to ignore the voice that disturbed him. He was still sore from the long night but it was a good memory that made him smirk, glancing to the youth that lay in front of him. The lad was bare and naked still from the previous night. So were the other two men who had apparently collapsed at his side partially laying on his covered legs or pillows. His pale fingers played with a loose strand of hair from the other male currently amused that he been so generous to them. Letting them take control of his own body—and even found himself begging—till they couldn't continue further.

He wasn't quite sure why he had.

He was the 'Prince of Darkness', 'Most Unclean', 'the Antichrist', 'Satan', all of which known to mortal and immortal as the Devil. The great fallen one, who remained in the depths of Hell, waiting for the day to actually become more than an owner of a prison. This infamous creature allowed three of his own servants to take advantage of him merely because he was _bored_. The three would never boast about it however, acts would count as treason against the overlord and be sentenced with three hundred years of ash duty—which basically was cleaning up the pits of Hell, which stunk more than anything imaginable.

But Lucifer didn't pick these 'children' by random. No, he had tastes and not many would say no to the ruler of their home especially since it would give more privileges.

". . . My Prince. A _pure_ one has come into your home and requested a word with you." The voice spoke in distaste, spitting out the word 'pure'. A pure one was no other than the mighty Lord's children. His messengers or in better words, His little angels. To the occupants of Hell, they were spoiled little brats that had no respect for anyone but themselves. It was half true, but to angels, demons were exactly the same—which was half true as well. The winged beings and their Father, had forced Lou and his followers into this hole, leaving them for dead. There was no reason not to hate them, the demons had every right to spit at their faces and have the 'holy' beings dead at their feet. But of course Satan's demons took it a little too far when raping them or playing with God's toys—the human mortals—which would constantly cause Heaven to attack.

However it was a normal thing and Lucifer hardly ever cared.

Well until now.

His dark eyes rose and he quickly sat up, staring at the man who had apparently been standing in front of the bed this whole time looking down intently at the view. Lucifer knew what the fellow male was thinking. How could a high-class demon degrade himself to this? No question that it was disgraceful, but what else could you do after thousands of years of making people's lives miserable? You had to tend to your own needs and for some odd reason the man before him would never be tempted to do such things. It was the only demon Satan found himself unable to approach.

". . . . Now?"

"Yes my lord." A muttered groan left the demon lord as he tried moving from the bed, the seemly silk blankets slipping off his bare skin with ease leaving no imagination involved when the man tried pushing away from the clinging demons laying amongst the pillows. It was frustrating, his body all ready sore from the night before trying so hard to ignore the muscles that ached for a good rest. Muttering something quietly, his hands gripped onto the arms around his thighs and tried prying them off cursing the cuts and bruises that made the exercise so difficult. All this effort became extremely useless as Satan wiggled and pushed, getting no reaction from the other demons except 'Nnh'. He rolled his eyes and glanced over to man who was still standing there. He was snickering at the sight and even staring at what looked to be below the waist of the Prince. It wasn't uncommon for the other to do such, but then again, who couldn't stare? Other than the pair of scars that were left behind from where his wings were ripped off during his Fall, Lucifer was. . . perfect. A light muscle tone ran through his delicate and slightly pale looking skin leaving him with quite a beauty that is rarely seen in males. His youth remained in him—never growing old being immortal of course—and yet his eyes held much to them. Deep and secretive, holding so many secrets behind them that no other man knew. His hair covered parts of his eyes, dangling across his face while slipping near to his collarbone. The shades of silver was left, a once holy brown lock but now left pale from the lack of sun.

His appearance wasn't much, even as those curled horns rested near his temples. But really, one couldn't judge by only looks.

From what Satan could tell, the other was staring down at his thighs where dried blood rested followed by cuts and bruises and even bite marks—but they were all about his skin healing rather rapidly. "Beelzebub. Instead of staring at my ass why don't you help me." The Dark Lord spoke, raising an eyebrow at the other who quickly smirked.

"Of course." It was then that the demon's expression changed once more, eyes narrowing to a glare toward the youths about Lucifer. ". . . WAKE UP YOU STUPID-FUCKING ASSHOLES." He yelled, his voice echoing in the room enough to make the mirror covered in handprints rattle. It woke the young demons, eyes widening and jumping off the bed, quickly grabbing their things and dashing out the room nude. It even surprised the royal demon, jumping just slightly while staring at Beelzebub. He was flabbergasted even when he had heard that loud voice tons of times. As Lucifer remained in shock, the taller male walked throughout the room grabbing simple things from the overlarge closet that took up most of the wall while walking over to the dressing drawers pulling out boxers and socks. He had enough time to even grunt at the mirror behind Lucifer before settling down on the floor to his knees in front of the other male. "I think you had too much fun last night—the whole mansion heard your screams."

For some odd reason, Louie blushed lightly. He usually didn't mind people hearing anything when it involved him and sex. . . but for some reason Beelzebub was different than most demons. He was Satan's best friend, his only friend in this hellhole. Not only that—but he felt. . . a closer bond through the past years and was very certain the other was feeling the same. Why else would he say his title in such a purr every time he saw Lucifer?

Beelzebub moved closer now, pushing the lost demon to the bed while attending to dress the Prince. He didn't protest, allowing his friend to slip his boxers on following his pants and such. Those black eyes watched every movement, studying the man above him with curiosity. Lucifer couldn't get enough of looking over his friend. Beelzebub was just too handsome for his own good and Lucifer had to admit—the man was very sexy as well. The other had to have a six-pack beneath all the layers of clothes he wore. For some odd reason, the demon continued to pull on at least three pairs of shirts: A wife beater, then a regular shirt (currently a black one), and then a button up shirt. Beads of all sorts dangled around his tan skinned neck with an upside-down cross amongst it all. Black hair layer down until it reached the beginning of his back, while eyes of crimson focused on pulling the Prince back to a sitting position.

As he was raised, he could feel the other demon's breath tease his skin, eyes boring into his friend's. Everything was quiet now, neither man moved as they sat there until Beelzebub rose brushing his lips against Lucifer's. It was shocking, the Prince's heartbeat pumping against his chest reacting by brushing back. Their lips locked for what felt like hours, pressing into different ways, each feeling better than the first. It was unusually gentle but as Lucifer leaned in for another to go much deeper—Beelzebub pulled away and pressed a kiss on the demon's neck brushing up to his ear. "Stop picturing me naked every time you stare." He whispered lowly causing a guilty smirk to trace over the silver-haired man's lips.

"Allow me such fantasies at least." He responded, a finger tracing the straight horn sticking out from the bigger man's hair. He leaned in further, eyes barely lidded now. "_Just. . . one more—_" He mumbled trying to press into another kiss only to be declined again as Beelzebub stood.

"You need to head to the main hall my Prince. Your guest is waiting." A roll of the eyes was seen on Lucifer's behalf and slowly he stood.

"Fuck angels. Agh. Pathetic lot." He muttered, moving forward and left the room with his friend following behind to make sure he wouldn't fall over.

Lucifer had to at least lived in this house for most of his life in this dreary world. But even as thousands of years past, he had yet to actually learn all the rooms. He had no idea there was a two other bathrooms on the second floor. Nor that there was an actual coat closet that had to be mile long inside. He really just didn't care or didn't have enough time on his hands.

Stepping out the door of his room was like walking into the Victorian era on earth. It was more of a Gothic-Victorian styled, being that everything had interesting designs like railing that looked like webs than anything else. The floor beneath him was covered in dark Persian carpet and on every floor it was a different style. Relics lay on walls or on small tables, pictures of family or stupid things no one ever looked at. The halls of almost every floor were the same, dark and dreary. A touch of Fallen art in there that depicted how much Heaven and Earth sucked but also implying that Hell was no better. It was strange really how almost every demon that lived in Hell would prefer more than the barren walls that surrounded them. The darkness that covered the seemingly cave about them with only the light emitting from the ground—the fires of hell where souls were locked beneath. Earth somehow was a lot more fun and Lucifer couldn't agree more.

Throughout the rest of the house was nothing but shelves of books of all kinds. There was even a large kitchen that could hold thirty elephants on steroids on the bottom floor and a dining room that was even larger used for eating and possibly even a ballroom—when that happened was probably a millennia ago. Being that there was no light in Hell, candles littered the walls and floors lit or burned out. He would probably have to assign someone the duty of cleaning it all up once again.

There were only three floors to the manor, Lucifer only visited two of such. The main floor and the third, which was his own room. While the second floor belonged to the higher ranked demons—Satan's favorites as most labeled them. A long stair way connected them all, to which they currently were stepping down.

It bothered the demon lord that a pure one would even dare to enter Hell. There were times when the act was allowed, but when Hell and Heaven hated each other at their worst, it was best to leave the other alone. Apparently, the 'brink of war' didn't mean shit to angels. It wouldn't be long before it happened either. For each side continued to push to the limit. Demons would kill off mortals while angels would kill off demons. It was strange how angels would react when their toys were destroyed. They'd become drama queens from Hell—and yes those exist unfortunately—and blame it all on the demons, killing everyone in their path. Really, angels were immature, which was definitely saying something coming from a demon.

"Ah, Lucy. It's about time you came down." A twitch was the first reflex at the sound of the horrid nickname he had from angels. What was worse, he knew the voice all too well—one he despised with a passion.

"Michael. How _nice_ of you to come unannounced and uninvited. Get the hell out."

"Oh I was invited. In fact, He invited me." The grin that pushed onto the archangel's face was enough to make the demon want to strange him. But he kept it cool, he had to. One move against these damned birds and God Himself would have a fit that would destroy all residents in Hell. Pity, he actually like the barmaid in Seven Sins down the block. "But don't worry, I won't be long."

Lucifer couldn't help but roll his eyes at the archangel. The man was supposedly the warrior of all angels, defender of Heaven. After that war that sent him and thousands of other Fallen angels to Hell—he didn't doubt it. In fact, it was Michael that kicked him to the ground, ripping off his wings without mercy. Since then on, the Dark Lord didn't want anything to do with the other. Nor God. But for some reason they continued to barge in like they owned the place.

"So. Spit it out then."

"Hmm. Rude." The angel muttered, flicking his wrist to the side to let out an annoying pop. Unfortunately, the man before 'Lucy' was taller than him and like most angels he had the traditional blond hair color and blue eyes. But, it's said this particular angel was the first of all angels. Satan could really give a rat's ass since he had grown up with the guy, but really—Michael should be down in Hell with all the pride stocked up in that mouth of his. He wore mainly white, white over shirt and under with blue jeans that looked a little faded. His wings were out and folded behind him and his arms were crossed. "One of you children—"

"My. . . children? Unless I suddenly became a woman, those aren't my children. I don't shoot people out my ass like your 'Father'." He smirked, receiving a glare from the angel.

"_Anyways_." Michael muttered, walking nearer and stopping only a foot from the Prince. He could feel Beelzebub behind him get a little on the edge now with the slight growl that produced from his throat. If Michael tried anything, his bodyguard would be all over Michael in seconds. "—Has killed the new Virgin Mary."

"Oh trying that whole Jesus thing again? Why now?"

"That's none of your business."

"Actually it is. You see without Hell there's no place for where your 'sinners' can go. If 'Jesus' pops up, he'll screw up the whole balance meaning Hell will collapse from the lack of souls feeding it. Then demons will eventually die and Heaven will go to Hell because all the souls will overfill. Sounds like my business all right, right Beezle?"

"Right." Both demons smirked as the angel quickly ignored every word.

"I'm here because God is holding you responsible for your. . . followers' actions."

"Oh and what's that."

What happened next was almost a blur to Beelzebub. He felt almost immobile for those brief seconds, watching something bright unsheathe from out of nowhere and attack his Prince. Lucifer didn't stand much of a chance, he tried backing off be those few steps were nothing compared to the long gleaming sword shining with light that sliced across his face. Blood dripped at the deep cut, Lucifer falling to his side from the impact of the blow. It was then that his friend reacted, quickly charging toward Michael, who grinned like a maniac and disappeared from sight. It didn't make sense to the attacking demon, stopping in his tracks to look around. Even the men standing about the front door rushed in to help. But it was no use. Michael had attacked the Prince and gotten away with it.

Again.

A sigh left the tall demon, turning at the sound of a muffld groan, seeing the wounded man hold his face for a long time afraid of what damage may have been caused. "Stupid-ass—" Beelze smirked at the other's complaint, knowing the other was fine. He would heal eventually. At these thoughts, he walked over to assist the Fallen one, watching as the royal demon finally pry his hand from his face. There was a long silence even as his friend began lifting him up and finally Lucifer's lips twitched.

"Beezle—I. . . I. . . can't see."


	2. Chapter 2

"_Beelze—I. . . I. . . can't see._" Those words span in Beelzebub's head, unable to think of anything else. The Prince Of Darkness had been injured by something Holy and such weapons could leave permanent scars on a demonic being. The sword Michael had used from what the former Lieutenant could tell was one made out of purity. The bright shine it had given off was meant to blind it's victims before making a sweep to attack. It had made a good move; it had struck across the Devil's face crossing over the man's eyes rendering him blind. Hopefully it would only last temporarily. . . hopefully.

And it was all _his_ fault.

The warrior demon couldn't understand it, why hadn't he reacted in time to prevent such a 'message' from God? Which was a strange message coming from a forgiving god such as Himself. It was rare that the Lord even used violence against Hell and when He did it, it was usually done through His own hands, not his messengers. If the Lord really wanted to do something bad, all He had to do is turn Satin's hair pink. Yes, he would so _enjoy_ waking up to that. Though instead, He used an unforeseen tactic. No, something had to be up. The Almighty Lord wasn't behind this—as hard as that was to believe for a demon—He would never treat Lucifer this badly. He would never blind him. But he was blind. Beelzebub could have—should have—thrown himself in front of his friend. Then at least he would sustain the injuries and not risk everything by letting Lucifer earn them.

Everything was at risk now. If news spread of this newly founded injury blessed on an angel's behalf. . . all hell would break loose—literally. The demons serving underneath their Dark Lord would go on a riot, trying to earn the title for themselves. They would raid the manor and attack each other—even try killing off Lucifer when given the chance. The problem was, in Hell, no one could kill the Devil. Just like no one could kill God up in Heaven. There was a belief that immortals were invincible, nothing could harm them and yet it was untrue. Immortals could be killed, but in their own world they were safe from death. Unfortunately they could still be harmed and such was what Lucifer currently suffered. But the demons would try, being as weak as the Prince was, they would be able to take the man up onto Earth and remove him from the world completely. _If_ they could get past Beelzebub and the others, of course.

The tall male sat alone in the dark hall, breathing in deeply to satisfy his ongoing thoughts. Those rough hands rubbed his temples as he tried to work out a positive thought. Lucifer had to be all right. There was no other option in that matter, the Prince would be all right. But as he allowed a finger to trace across the base of his nose, the noticeable thin scar soon made him think otherwise.

No doubt Lucy had gained a scar. Beelzebub all ready felt the bad feeling grow in his gut as a few demons past, with a bowl of bloody water leaving down the hall with stern looks on their faces: 'Poor guy, won't make it' or the 'I'm happy I'm not him' kind of look. Every demon that had entered and left the room he sat next to had it. It was a bad sign and after leaning into the chair he had stolen from someone's room, it was almost becoming unbearable. His friend had lost his eyes and the last thing he had said to him was _'Stop picturing me naked every time you stare.'_ He groaned loudly, hitting the back of his head on the wall from leaning too far hoping that someone would just come up and scream how much of a dick he was.

"Sir. . . " His eyes rose and quickly turned to the demon who was dressed in robes. She wasn't in good shape, obviously putting all her effort into helping her Prince. But from the saddened look on her face, it was apparent that it hadn't been enough. _No. . . please don't say it. _Beelzebub rose slowly, feeling his legs try to buckle beneath him afraid of what she had to say. "I'm. . . afraid he won't be able to see. The wound has destroyed his frontal cornea and has even dug further into the pupil blinding him completely. I've tried my best. . . but it's—" _No—don't say his condition will remain._ "—permanent." She watched the demon before her breathe in sharply, brows furrowing emotionally distressed by all of this. He was in a lot of pain from what she could tell from these facial expressions. Part of her felt sorry for him, but she remained silent.

". . . Isn't there any other way. . . ?" He spoke up after pressing a palm to his forehead, trying to calm down.

"Since the wound was caused by purity. . . only those of pure can fix it. Demonic work will have no other affect except leave it numb." Beelzebub should have guessed. Anything Holy had quite the affect of a demonic creature and healing it would either take a quite deal of time or finding someone Holy would be the only two options.

". . . Alert the other High Demons." He spoke with a sigh, running a hand along his face hardly noticing the nod he received watching her run off. It was only then that his gaze went back to the partially open door, the door to Lucifer's room. It was still cracked open and from what he could hear, no one was there. Well except one. He grunted and walked over to the doorway, fingers brushing across the metallic handle realizing how nervous he really was.

"_I can't—he. . . took—" The words were stuttered, fearful that if he continued it would all be true. He couldn't see, he couldn't even see the hand that was waving in front of his face creating a small breeze against his skin. Everything was so dark, the last thing he could really remember was light and then blood. Lots of blood. "__**Dammit**__ Michael—__**fucking**__ angels.__** Fucking, fucking,**__ agh. . . Beelzebub?" He could feel those arms hold him on his feet and was sure that the other demon was staring at him. Even when blind, he could feel that piercing gaze and he had a feeling he knew exactly where they were staring. He must have looked horrible. He didn't even want to imagine what he looked like at that very moment. _

"_Ye-Yes my Prince?" The other demon stuttered more than Lucifer did and that. . . was just a really bad sign._

"_Are you going to let me sit here and bleed to death—or are you actually going to get help?" It was strange how unusually calm the Prince was in a situation like this one. The male had just lost his eyes and all he could really react was through anger. There was no fear, no tears, nothing to show how he felt horrid about his loss. It was Beelzebub that was freaking out for him. Beelzebub immediately turned his head and glared at the guards that were running over._

"_Get a medic—NOW." He ordered, causing a few to pale and quickly run for help. His heart was beating so quickly, pounding in his hears as if trying to escape. It only stopped when hearing a snicker from the male in his arms. _

"_Am I the only one calm here?" The Devil spoke, looking up—well he believed he was—to Beezle. His friend could hardly share the smile, simply pulling the man off the ground._

"_This is serious my Prince."_

"_No, no that freckle on Michael's face was pretty serious, maybe I should be kind enough to remove it for him."_

It was really hard to touch that door handle. Just like it had been hard to keep a frown attached to his lips in-between Lucifer's morbid humor. Being that he had no idea what was beyond the door, it sat there cracked with hardly any view into the inside. He knew what was there though it was just. . . trying to be polite and telling what the Prince would face. "My—Prince?" He spoke, opening the door after grabbing all his strength that still held his wobbly legs. He opened the door fully letting his eyes fall upon the bed, which held many obvious spots of blood. But no one laid upon it. "Prince??" His eyes rose, moving to the bed uncovering nothing and soon went around the room in such a rush that he almost tripped over his own two feet. Had someone taken the youth from his own room?

Beezle couldn't believe that, no he pushed through a nearby door glancing around a bathroom for anything that resembled the small figure. But . . . It was empty, just like the previous room. This was impossible; no one could get in or out of the manor without being noticed. "Prince?!" Feeling desperate, he spoke louder, rushing out of the room.

"Yes?" The voice surprised the demon glancing to the side where a figure stood, staring out the open window. He didn't look back, no he faced forward apparently staring at nothing important. Ironically Beezlebub couldn't believe how blind he had been and walked over to the other.

"Why aren't you in bed?" The warrior spoke softly, letting his eyes fall on the large window in front of them. It was wide open, the black curtains swayed with the warm wind blowing gently against the walls of the home.

A sigh was heard next to him, "Stop worrying about my health, I'll be fine." The Devil ordered, still facing the window. Beelzebub couldn't help but look over to the Fallen Prince, wondering why on earth he was in front of a window. There was nothing to see if he could see, only ashy rain hitting the dry and hot earth below them. There was a small 'village' afar, containing demons of all ranks and farther than that was the gates of Hell and then of course the river of spirits and their boat master. Lucifer had seen it a hundred times by now and even blind he knew it well. "I overheard you talking with the doctor. . ." He continued and soon moved a hand against his own face, brushing the tips against what could be his eyes but instead was hidden away by a bandage to protect them. A white blindfold was tied around his head uselessly, marking how blind he really was. "Beelze. . . I want you to take over Hell if something happens to me."

The fellow demon's eyes rose, trying to collect everything he just heard. He was still getting used to knowing what was underneath that cloth! ". . . Lucifer, you're not going to die. You still have a chance."

"No I don't. What angel would help the creator of Hell? And if I do heal, who will stop this attack from happening again?" The silver haired man sighed. "My own followers will take me down. Before that happens I want you in control."

"Pr—"

"Don't argue." Those brows furrowed, strong as ever even without his eyes.

- - - - -

"Okay, let me get this straight. You're blind because Michael galloped into here and sliced them out while princess here just stood there and watched? Does anybody think this as funny or am I the only one?"

"Shut up Mammon."

"Hey, it's not my fault I have a sense of humor."

"Did you not hear Belial? Be quiet."

It soon became silent in the room and Lucifer mutely sighed in relief. It wasn't everyday that the court of High Demons assembled. But it wasn't every day that the Prince was attacked by an angel either. From what the ruler could recall, he currently sat at a long table with five other demons—Beelzebub included—and all of them had been with him during the great battle against Heaven. They were the first falls and probably the oldest of all the demons. On the left side of the table sat Beelzebub—who we all know—and next to him was Leviathan. This man was the only high demon who wandered the ocean freely. In the past the creature terrorized the oceans and gave birth to sea monsters of all kinds. His eyes were completely black; pools of dark oceans filled them as they wandered about the room looking to the demons with an emotionless stare. Curled horns tangled in the bluish black hair, was probably the only demonic thing about him. Tattoos sat on his neck, hiding away slits that dignified gills amongst the very light tinted blue skin. His fingers were finned together and laid about the table, something he probably evolved into after thousands of years being a fallen fish. It made the Prince wonder what he did down in that wide ocean all by himself.

On the right of him sat Belial. Belial was a lustful little demon, being the first Incubus on the face of earth. The only demon that constantly wanted to be in Lucifer's pants and the only one that had enough courage to try to rape him as well. It gave the Prince something to do really, to avoid the demon as much as he could. But really, the man needed to get something better to do than force himself on every pretty thing he found. Those crimson eyes were mostly on Lucifer, lustful as ever while snow white hair was left braided down his back, his clothes a little too revealing for that porcelain skin. He might as well been naked with his shirt see through and open, pants being rather tight. His ears were elongated while small horns sat near them with piercings decorating that fine skin. He was always hanging around Hell or amongst some club finding himself pushed into some young mortal. Lucifer pitied every one of his victims.

Beside Belial sat Mammon. The only demon here that didn't own a pair of horns. Instead the youngest of them all owned a spaded tail and leather wings. His eyes were a mix of yellow and brown, while his ears were as pointed as Belial's. He looked very human, but was probably the most annoying of them all. With that habit of swiping his tongue across his teeth constantly and the annoying humor he took on, at times the others around him pulled his short brown hair to make him shut up. Unfortunately he had some skill to avoid that now and would become even more annoying than usual. His life was all about greed however; he was the devil's advocate promoting the idea of hell in mortal's minds while stealing away their souls for silly little gifts. He was useful in Hell and that was enough to not try killing him. But oh, it was so hard.

Now Lucifer sat at one end of the table and on the other sat the duchess of Hell. Astaroth. The main woman in Hell. Her being was decorated in jewelry while her body looked as if it came from a Victoria's Secret magazine. She was like a siren, calling men to their doom and taking away their lives instantly. She owned two pairs of wings on her back, eyes of blue dripping red poison. She had a nice tan while her dirty blond hair traced across it. Her horns remained hidden beneath her hair looking more human than Mammon did. Her point in Hell was essential. She assigned demons rights to go onto Earth and tasks. She trained demons and made an account of torture for souls. Her role was almost as high as Lucifer's but remained at moot point, never getting any higher than he allowed which of course angered her.

The only one missing at the table was Death, the Grim Reaper. But that hooded skeleton was always out and contact with him was one of the most impossible things even between his death angels.

"Most Unclean, what are we going to do with you?" Belial asked, fingers tracing across the other's hand in want. Beelze from the side could tell the demon was getting aggravated by this touching and without further notice stomped on the demon's foot causing a pained cry. Lucifer could only smile.

". . . Well I assume. . . we have to fix this as Beelze pointed out."

A sigh touched Leviathan's lips but he said nothing, simply stared off as Astaroth furrowed her brow. ". . . Of course. The demons will find out about this. I've all ready silenced the servants and guards of this household, but someone will spread it, I assure you that."

"Well _duh_." Mammon rolled his eyes, "And then they'll attack. Do we really stand much of a chance between hundreds of demons? Huh? No we don't! We're all going to be SPLATTED and then Prince here will get kidnapped to Earth and killed. It looks rather hopeless all ready."

"I think we told you to shutup Mammon." Beelzebub pointed out, glaring at the demonic teen.

"Well maybe if you'd actually do your _job_ right, then we wouldn't be here!" Mammon returned, offering the same glare.

"Oh, think you could do a better job??" The warrior stood, glaring harder at the other.

All ready Lucy was rubbing his forehead, not believing any of this. Well one couldn't blame him. Here he was sitting amongst the most powerful demons, the original Fallens, the ones everyone respected and they were currently acting like children. Beelzebub somehow managed to move across the table and started strangling the youngest demon while Astaroth pulled at Beelze's hair trying to get the man off. There was a lot of yelling and it was the only way Lucifer could understand what was going on. He muttered profanity as this continued, leaning into the chair tapping his fingers on the table impatiently. If he could see, all these demons would have it. He was sure of it.

A gentle touch paused his angry fingers, pressing that hand down as _something_ rubbed against his neck. A sharp breath left the Prince as that _something_ soon became wet and ran up to his jawline. He tensed, moving his head away but it only gave more access. He could feel fingers press against his shoulders rubbing against them causing the demon to relax from all these touches. _No—gawd, pay attention to the council!_ But he couldn't just like he couldn't arch up his own shoulders to brush these touches away. "_You're so tense my Prince. . ._" That warm _wet_ tongue ran along his ear lobe, pulling at it gently begging for attention.

His head bent back, knowing now that it was definitely Belial. That damn incubus was using his lusting spells on him and Lucy couldn't believe his own hormones were dancing to this music. What was worse, he suddenly felt more sensitive for he was unable to see where these hands moved. But he had a feeling he knew where they would go soon.

"Belial—" He breathed in sharply, trying to fight back any noises working up his throat.

"Yes my Lord?" Satan heard that whisper tickling his skin.

He grunted, hearing a yell in the background. "Get off me." The demon ordered, glaring through that blindfold.

"Aww. . . But you're so. . . _weak and defenseless_ . . . it's so hard to resist!" A smirk curled on those lips, fingers slipping underneath that buttoned shirt teasing the hidden nub. It took all of Lucifer's strength not to gasp hoping Beelze would pry this perverted man off. What was with today? Did everyone just want to take advantage of the Dark Lord?

Meanwhile as all this commotion worked up, Leviathan sat quietly in his seat, staring off. He had all ready seen similar things happen in previous meetings and was hardly surprised it was occurring in this meeting. Beelzebub and Mammon fighting while Astaroth tried breaking them up. Belial, using his time wisely and trying to rape the Prince of Darkness. While he simply sat there in the same seat, doing nothing. He really didn't see the point of coming here. No fish-boy wanted to be back in his pool, swimming with his sea friends while causing chaos in the Bermuda Triangle. This was just pointless and even though Lucifer was in danger, he really didn't care very much. Everything would work out in the end, somehow it always did.

But he had to speak up to end this quarrel. "My. . . Prince." He spoke quietly and for some reason even when his voice was as quiet as a gentle breeze the whole room went silent once more. Even Belial paused in his actions while Lucifer tried putting his attention on the speaker. "I. . . have an idea." He mumbled, not particularly wanting to be the center of attention. His eyes remained glued to the table while the group standing upon it slowly separated. As they did, Beelzebub sent a glare toward the lustful demon who quickly returned his sent in fear of his own pride. Everything was back to normal and this Lucifer thanked.

"What is it?" He spoke, staring ahead hoping it was toward Leviathan.

". . . Angelic assistance."

"Well we all ready thought of that you numbsku—" Mammon began only to silence himself as two of the demons glared.

"Raziel the Archangel lives on Earth as a neutral. But he lives on the cold part of the planet. In Russia."

Astaroth didn't even take a moment to think about it and soon shook her head, "No, that's suicide. Demons from Hell can't survive cold temperatures like that. I don't care how powerful you are, you first have to adapt to Earth's climate for more than a year and then you can _try_ to adapt to colder climates. We don't have time for that." She argued, hating the idea all ready.

"Plus, even if we did get Raziel, how could we convince a neutral to come to Hell? Leviathan, it's a good idea but there are some flaws." Beelze added, hardly enjoying the idea of turning into a demonpopsicle.

_When did Archangel Raziel turn neutral?_ The news stunned the Prince of Darkness. Becoming neutral was just as suicidal as a demon living in Antarctica. It just _didn't_ happen. Neutrality between two opposing forces meant that no one would defend you. A neutral could become a causality in seconds for not helping a side. Neutrals usually took shelter around other mortal beings. They didn't affect human life, didn't harm them in any way. Just lived as one of them, trying to avoid a war that they didn't want to be in. Unfortunately some in the demon side would take such an act amongst their own kind as traitor unless they hurt another mortal. Vampires had to be the only creatures who got away with neutrality these days when trying to stay away from blood.

But an angel trying to become a neutral? That was curious. The Lord didn't usually allow such actions. But apparently he allowed some exceptions. Something must have really pissed off the archangel to leave his heavenly home of paradise to go to some horrid place like Earth.

There was a chance he would help him then, since the man probably helped both sides on kindness. He could heal his eyes! The idea was very tempting he'd have to promote Leviathan or something for coming up with such a plan.

"Then I'll go." Lucifer spoke stunning everyone at the table. It took a long time for anyone to say anything and it was rather intense for a blind person to go through.

A cough signaled someone was speaking up, "I think I speak for all the demons at this table when I say: You're. Absolutely. NUTS." Mammon stood, pointing a finger at the Prince. He was about to argue with the foolish child, but Lucifer was interrupted.

"I'd hate to agree with Mammon, but for once he's right my Prince. In your state, you wouldn't survive a day in the mortal plane, especially not a Russian winter." Beelzebub sighed and took a hold of his shoulder gently giving it a squeeze, "But I admire your strength." Lucifer stared at his friend, unable to believe him. Of all people, he didn't think his best friend would throw in the towel first. Did he really seem that weak? The Prince looked away and tried glancing to the rest.

"You. . . all don't think I can't do this?"

"I'm sorry Most Unclean." Belial of course, ". . . I don't want you injuring that beautiful body more than you all ready have."

"I'm afraid so." Astaroth too?

". . . Yes." Leviathan, it seemed everyone lost faith in his abilities. He grunted, pushing his chair out to stand. No, he couldn't believe this. There was no way that the whole council would disagree. The Prince bit his lip trying to cool his anger, not too sure how everyone was looking at him now.

"Well. Whether any of you like it or not I'm going. This is my problem. And I'll fix it." He spoke, "All of you will remain in Hell and protect my title. If it takes me more than a year to return. . . Beelzebub will take up the title and Hell will continue to survive. This is an order."

From the stillness of the room, it wasn't hard to tell that they all objected to it. Lucifer rarely went to Earth, the last time he had gone was during World War II convincing Hitler to kill himself before the man's death day, to prepare him. The man had listened and currently lived in Hell because of it. Since then, Lucifer remained in the pits of the world, wondering what was happening above him. He wasn't ready for the modern world. No and all of them knew it.

"Then. . ." Astaroth stood with a sigh, "We should get you ready."


End file.
